


In Which Linoleum Is Involved

by idgit_with_a_fidget



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Banter, Hot Weather, M/M, Science Bros, floors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 02:30:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/669213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idgit_with_a_fidget/pseuds/idgit_with_a_fidget
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a blistering hot day and the only place of cool is the floor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Linoleum Is Involved

The summer was blisteringly hot. So hot it seemed to make the air quiver and warp like a pebble distorting a pool or reality garbling a fantasy. The fans had been working so tirelessly to remove the harsh desert dryness from the air that they, ironically, had overheated and melted their internal mechanical systems. JARVIS had nearly shut himself down, too, trying the mend the equipment. If he was able to sweat, the walls would be soaking and the wallpaper would be peeling. Tony was struggling to stop the entire Tower from going into a heat-wave meltdown, flapping around and swearing continuously. Opening the windows only let the scalding heat in like a persistent feline, giving it a home. There wasn’t even any ice cream in the freezer to eat or pack into a tub to press to your forehead. 

Bruce had attempted to overcome the problem by abandoning his shirt on the back of his chair in his bedroom and wearing the shortest pair of shorts he could find; Bermuda that came to the knees and was decorated with gaudy aquamarine and cerise flowers. They were almost painful to look at. 

He had woken up in a puddle of sweat that morning and found that the cold water tap only succeeded in sizzling on his burning skin, evaporating as it came into contact with his pores. He scraped his hair back out of his eyes and dampened a flannel, squishing it against his face. He draped a towel around his neck and had sat by the bedroom window all morning in an effort to salvage any cool airwaves. However, sitting by the window only made his temperature skyrocket further, as the glass panes exaggerated the searing rays of the sun. Afraid he was going to be reduced to cinders like a worm underneath a magnifying glass, Bruce moved from his bedroom and walked around the Tower to find a ‘cool spot’. His legs were sticky from the perspiration that leaked from each orifice; trickling, unsanitary and very, very gross. 

Venturing into the kitchen, Bruce studied the room. It was brightly lit and glaring sunspots reflected off of every shiny surface, heating it until it would weld to your fingers if you tried to handle it. There was no escape from the heat; he finally admitted to himself, he was going to have to make the most of what he could find. Then, an odd thought came to mind. Removing the towel from his shoulders, Bruce tossed it down onto the floor and followed it; laying his half-naked body down onto the linoleum. It was cold and cool and incredibly comfortable. The welcome cool spread across his chest and arms and blossomed behind his knees and on his heels. He smiled, satisfied, and slipped a hand underneath the towel to cradle his head much like he would do with his pillow. He closed his eyes, the sweat on his neck turning clammy and dry on his skin and gluing his hair together like perverse shampoo. He rocked himself to one side, rolling until he was on his back, and considered why he hadn’t considered shades. All Americans had shades, even in winter; why didn’t he. He’d have to buy a pair. 

Bruce felt the linoleum quiver as footsteps approached. He raised his chin and peered over his own chest. Tony was looming over him, head cocked to one side in a gesture of abstract and bewildered curiosity. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, biting his tongue. There was a dark ring in the centre of his chest encircling the usual blue. Matching marks shaded his underarms and collar. The shirt seemed to shrink. 

“It’s too hot,” Bruce replied dully. 

“Yeah. It is.”

Bruce patted the floor and made a circling motion with his palm as though to calm it. “Lie down with me, Tony.”

Stark threw back his head to laugh. Bruce’s torso jittered with sniggers. Nonetheless, Tony obeyed. Who could resist the temptation to lie by a mind only second to his? 

He too found the flooring cold and cool on the small of his back and he wriggled out of his stuffy tee. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Bruce turn his head away quickly, rose on his cheek as their shoulders brushed and the sodden clothing was tossed into the far corner of the room. He'd blame it on the heat.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
